Harvest Time
by irridescentjane
Summary: A journal from Abigail's view for my English class a few years ago.  Each chapter will be her point of view after each scene.
1. Chapter 1

_This was an English assignment of mine a few years ago in which we were to pick a girl from the crucible and write a journal from her point of view after each act. This is Abigail's view after the first act. Any weird grammar is probably intentional and an effort to copy the speech patterns from the play. Any that isn't is probably just temporary idiocy on my part but we'll all agree to pretend it was intentional._

I thought at first this talk of witching were a curse but it were more a blessing. The whole village is chasing after our words like seeds scattered to the wind and Reverend Hale is as easy to mold to my thought as clay. It were good though that Betty joined in with her names when she did or it might have been proven a falsehood. This will be a village full of poppets in my control and those who choose to strive against me will feel the lash of my power.

John Proctor claims he will not have me and that he loves his wife. I know that he does not love her. No more could he bear soft feelings for her than could the noble lion love the flea that gnaws his ear. He loves me yet. It were many times his cheeks bloomed roses when I passed him in church. Let his wife believe it were in shame. Soon she will convey her thoughts only from Hell. She be a cold and heartless woman, placing herself on a pedestal to judge me and all of Salem. Let you enjoy your lofty seat for now Goody Proctor for a rope will soon see you raised above Salem. It is harvest time in Salem and all the rotten stalks must be scythed down.


	2. Chapter 2

I have suffered to do God's holy work and cleanse this village and still John insists on bending his warmth to try to melt the frigid heart of his wife instead of towards me. How can he say that he will speak against me in the courts tomorrow? He will only drag himself into the boggy depths of the law. If he tries to prove me guilty he will paint himself with the same brush.

When his wife is hanged for _his_ crimes he will return to me. He can wrap himself up from his wife's cold but he cannot shield himself from my warmth. Tomorrow in the courts he will strive dutifully against me but his passion will somewhat lacking. His secret wishes will soften his blows so that we both will gain the secret satisfaction of seeing her hang. She will not confess to save herself. Pride and Anger are her only strengths.

Praise God for naïve Mary sewing so trustingly beside me. I did not think what use the poppet would be until I saw her stick the needle in for safe keeping. It hurt to bury the sharp tip of a needle in my own stomach but it were worth it to know that it would be Goody Proctor's neck. Mary knows it were her needle of course but she has just sense enough not to tell the court. If she does she will dangle next to Goody Proctor.


	3. Chapter 3

My mind is muddled up like well water that will not run clear. The court today were a disaster. Everything went perfectly at first. Our screams convinced the world of Mary's fraud and I made Danforth understand what would happen to him if he should start to disbelieve. My only anger were stemmed from the fact that Goody Proctor managed to snake out of her execution by claiming that she were pregnant when I know that John cannot have looked with lust upon her. Then just as I was feeling jubilant Mary did something that I did not expect. She accused John Proctor of an alliance with the devil. It was very clever of her. That girl hath stolen all of my wiles away. I know not anymore what I should do or say. What have I done? I can think of nothing to save john's life yet I cannot accept his death. I thought to gain his hand and instead I am left only with his blood. I regret nothing about the others, their deaths mean little to me. John's will be the only death of consequence.

Perhaps John will confess. I pray that he does. If he does he will find me gone. It will no longer be safe here very soon. Already people are discontent with our stories and it will not be long until we are proven liars. Mercy and I have planned it and we will leave very soon. Yes, perhaps John will confess and follow us. He cannot care for his wife enough to stay and die with her but surely, despite what he has said in court, he loves me enough to follow me. Today in court he called me a whore but it were him who took me from my white childhood bed and stained it red. It is he who bears the responsibility for what I have become. When he sees that he must forgive and follow me.

Goodbye Salem. We leave soon. Hopefully John, and no one else, will find me where we are going.


	4. Chapter 4

I am haunted by visions of the past. In my dreams I see we girls all screaming and fainting while a crowd looks on. The crowd itself is just a blur of color but one face stands out. It is John Proctor's face. His eyes never leave me but he does not look loving instead he looks angry and sad. Then all at once he stops breathing and the flesh melts from him leaving only the frame of his bones which collapse into dust and I wake screaming.

Mercy understands nothing. She left Salem without guilt while I live bathed in guilt. It follows after me wherever I go, poking and prodding. I am finally really witched but I am the witch.

John will hang today. He did not confess or I surely would have read it in the papers. I wonder, will I feel it when his neck breaks? Will something inside me finally crumple at the moment that he dies so that I may die too in the dusty streets? Perhaps it has already happened. I may never know. All I know is that in the end it was not worth it. What I have done cannot be forgiven. My obsession has led me to a place where I must sell myself to survive. To think, that I once dreamed to be the wife of the man whose neck now breaks for my sins. Forgive me, John for neither I nor God can.


End file.
